


Lahiliumeria

by bunnyangel



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stargate Fusion, Cool Cat Eddie Diaz, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Himbo!Buck, M/M, Oblivious Evan "Buck" Buckley, POV Evan "Buck" Buckley, Scientist!Buck, idiot in love, minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26351518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnyangel/pseuds/bunnyangel
Summary: The 911 Stargate fusion no one asked for.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 8
Kudos: 191





	Lahiliumeria

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the beta, [etherealtaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealtaurus).

He doesn't _loathe_ the new guy. He doesn't. He's a professional, no matter what his team thinks.

It's just that--did they really need another member?

SG-118 has been _fine_ , barring that incident on P8X-236, and _maybe_ the natives on P8X-372 could have been a _little_ friendlier, and okay, they were maybe a tad close to getting wiped out on P8X-- _anyway_ , the point is--

The point is Eddie Diaz is too pretty and too friendly and too--too damn much, okay? They do not need him.

"I need someone to babysit you so you can stop getting kidnapped, Buck," Bobby says absently, not even looking up from his paperwork. And he's joking, right? Right??

"That--that is completely unfair, Bobby! That's like...that's like victim blaming!"

"It really isn't."

"Yea..." Chim agrees thoughtfully, the absolute _traitor_ , "the natives we come across do seem to have a thing for good 'ol blondie blue-eyes here. Is this a precedent with the other teams? Should we check?"

"I _will_ drop you off the nearest cliff," he hisses. "Maddie won't miss you _at all._ "

Chims just grins widely and goes back to polishing his dumb weapons.

"We just worry about you, Buck," Hen says soothingly, and he feels slightly mollified, until he catches the glint in her eye. "I mean that makes what, seventeen kidnappings?"

And he does _not_ growl and stomp away, because he's a professional dammit.

The thing is--the thing is, Eddie Diaz is _amazing_. He's easy charm and mesmerizing charisma and complete competency rolled into a really, really hot package. 

He even takes Buck's thinly veiled animosity in stride, either disengaging artfully or sidestepping effortlessly; a small, almost self-depreciative smile on his face every time and a baffling, "you're alright, Dr. Buckley."

Three months in, he even saves Buck from getting kidnapped. Buck, who doesn't even shoot his team dirty looks because _he's a professional_ , goddammit. Not even when they're all standing on the ramp, safe inside SGC with the iris closed and grinning at the absolute muck he's coated in because Diaz _dragged him through the mud for an entire mile_. Bobby still has a straight face, but he's got that glint in his eye and god, his team--

"I hope you know, you guys all suck," he says sullenly, and they all start laughing. He _doesn't_ have the urge to smile, no sir, and he's _definitely_ not pouting.

Eddie, the absolute mad man, who's not _nearly_ as filthy and is actually radiating some weird serene post-battle zen, grins widely and claps him on the shoulder before pulling him in for a quick side hug. It doesn't make him feel a tiny bit better or set his heart aflutter. It _doesn't_. If his cheeks feel too warm, well then, it's just the foreign mud caked on his face reacting to his skin.

Six months in and he's mostly used to it. Eddie is team and team is family and so what if he's still having weird heart problems in the man's presence. Eddie's saved his life another four times and they're even super friendly with each other most of the time even if Bobby's face is still all smug and vindicated and Hen and Chim are _still_ assholes--

"If you don't stop giggling I'm going to--do something drastic!" He threatens.

"Yea, Buck," Eddie deadpans. "Very threatening."

It only incenses Hen and Chim even more. They're actually leaning on each other, gasping for breath. Even Bobby and Eddie are starting to have that distinctly amused set to their mouths.

He glares, and maybe pouts a little, because _why_ does this only happen to him?

"Maybe you should--." Bobby shuts up when his eyes shoot over and yes, there _is_ a distinct curl to those generally stern lips.

"Come on," Eddie says with a smile as he takes him by the elbow and leads him away. "Let's get you cleaned up."

And then--then shit hits the fan.

SG-118 is a strictly secondary advance team. They _aren't_ first contact, and this place _had been cleared_. And yet, and yet--

"Diaz! Diaz! Eddie, get the fuck up!"

He's not a medic, he's a scientist. He's _not a medic_ ; where the _hell_ are Hen and Chim??

He shakes the still unconscious Eddie Diaz, whose normally very hard body just flops like a rag doll.

"Please wake up, man. Seriously, I'm the botanist! You're the marine! _And_ the backup medic! It's your job to get us out of here! This is serious dereliction of duty! Wake _up_!"

Eddie, the absolute asshole, still does not respond.

Fuck. Fuck, okay. He can do this. He's a _professional_.

He wracks his brain for any field triage protocol but comes up alarmingly empty. When was the last time they had recerts?? _Who's fault is it that he doesn't know this_???

Okay. Okay. A-ABCs, right?

He pauses because he _doesn't remember_ what they stand for.

"Oh my god! Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Eddie," he says tearfully, silently swearing to brush up on all his field medical knowledge if they both get out of this alive. His head whips up as a low growl sounds in the bush.

Fuck. Fuck they were going to die.

Fumbling for the Beretta strapped to Eddie's thigh, he barely manages to free it in time. Mandatory gun sessions with Bobby flit through his head.

_Sight. Breathe. Squeeze._

_Don't stop until they do._

And he doesn't stop until he hears the useless click click of an empty gun over the ringing in his ears. The thing is dead and they have to move before more come. He's got to drag Eddie to the gate and dial for help. No big deal. It's fine. He can do this.

He does his best to stabilize Eddie's neck and then drags him upright, hugging him from behind in a parody of a lover's embrace. Settling Eddie's head carefully against his neck, he prepares to lift and drag--only to hastily set him back down a second later when there are more growls emanating from the trees.

"Still a good time to wake up, Eddie," he mutters. He drops to his knees and searches for the buckle keeping Eddie's MP5 tethered to him. He raises it, still crouched over his teammate, and strains to hear over the loud, fearful pounding of his heart.

And then Chim crashes into the clearing with Hen and Bobby hot on his heels.

He visits in the early zero-hundred hours, practically vibrating with nerves as he sneaks past other sleeping patients and stands near Eddie's bed.

Eddie looks horrible. His torso is practically mummified in bandages, and he has a matching helmet. He's on two different heavy duty antibiotics and still looks pained despite the heavy duty painkiller dripping steadily into his veins.

Buck fidgets, just staring, because this man had almost died because of him, because of his incompetency. It's not going to happen again. He swears it.

Carefully, he places a small card and a sprig of _Lahiliumeria_ on the nightstand, recently unfurled petals just beginning to faintly glow.

And then for reasons unknown to himself and despite his mission accomplished, he slips his hand into Eddie's and stays, for just a bit, just watching him breathe until the suffocating weight in his chest can ease.

SG-118 is grounded for the two months that it takes Eddie to get back on his feet.

Which is...fair, he guesses, grumbling quietly inside his head. He has plenty of backlog in the labs to go through anyway and medical shit to learn. No big deal.

He hasn't returned after that first night, but from _completely legitimate_ trips to consult with Dr. Lang about unrelated things, he can see the _Lahiliumeria_ still on the nightstand. It's been transferred into a vase.

He doesn't know why, but it makes something inside him flutter happily.

It's a relief when they're finally cleared for missions. He just can't find his damn--

"I liked the poem."

He twists, squawking, object in his hands flying up to fend off--Eddie in the doorway. He sags, heart still trying to climb out of his chest.

"And thank you for the flowers. They still haven't died yet."

"They won't," he says automatically, then flushes as his eyes grow wide. "Y-you...how did you know??"

Eddie grins that easy grin, but his expression is weirdly intent. "I recognize your handwriting. Plus, you're the only one with a _Lahiliumeria_ plant. No other team has been on that planet, and you don't let any of the other labbies touch it, I checked. Also, a guy in security owes me a favor."

Buck averts his gaze, because goodness, that smile, and he _really_ needs to get his heart checked because all this flopping couldn't be healthy. "You don't have to thank me," he adds in a half mumble. "It's my fault you got hurt, anyway." And then the latter portion of Eddie's statement registers and his head shoots back up. Eddie had _seen_ him. Shit.

There's a frown on that face now. "Hey," Eddie says as he draws closer.

He tries to back away, both hands now curled around what seems to be a statue, held in front of his chest protectively, but the edges of his storage containers are already digging into his back.

Warm, wonderful hands land on his shoulder. He holds his breath even as his heart rate trips up even further. Is he having a heart attack?

"Thank _you_ for saving _me_ ," Eddie says. "I've read the report. I know exactly what happened and what could have happened if you hadn't been there, okay?" Those dark, amazing eyes bore into him as though that would help get the point across.

It does.

"Y-you're welcome," he says, clearing his throat, struggling and failing not to drop his gaze. His cheeks feel hot and he hopes the lighting in here is dim enough to cover the color.

The hands curled around his shoulders slide up his neck, calloused thumbs forcing his head back up. He shivers.

There's a small, fond smile curving those lips, and amusement, now, in those eyes when he can finally force his further up. Amusement, and something like satisfaction.

He swallows, feeling inexplicably nervous, and _why_ was Eddie so close?

Slowly, ever so slowly and just full of intent, Eddie moves closer.

He starts, blinking rapidly, but the hands cradling his head keep him in place.

He can feel the heat as Eddie stops just centimeters away, hovering just _right there_. When his tongue darts out to wet his suddenly too dry lips, Eddie's widens into a full blown grin before warm, chapped lips press against his, soft at first, and then insistently, until he opens up to that moist warmth.

His brain stops.

Everything stops.

"Um," he says, dazed, when Eddie pulls back.

Another quick grin and he's being kissed again, this time to within an inch of his life.

He drops whatever it is in his hands and pulls Eddie in, hands fisting in his uniform.

"Hey," Eddie says later, low and pitched, when they've broken apart and only have foreheads touching. "I really like you."

He blinks and then feels the blood rush back to his face as a smile crawls across his face without permission.

"Hey," he returns, almost shyly. "I really like you, too."


End file.
